Heros Trial
by Brother Revan
Summary: Brother Revan is an aspiring space marine, during an invasion of an Ork world, he soon finds himself separated from his brothers and deep in enemy territory. But there are darker forces at work which are trying to destroy everything that Revan stands for.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Prologue

In the void between stars, a massive rift in reality opened, out of it came the Emperor Incarnatus, an Ultramarines' Battle barge, its destination, the planet of Corinth. The most recent campaign on Corinth was decades ago, now the Ultramarines return again to fight the Orks once again.

Chief Librarian Tigirius had come to the conclusion that the Orks are preparing a new Waaaagh, the Chapter Master, Marneus Calgar has sent the Incarnate and three companies of Space Marines, the first, second and fifth, to cripple the Ork Waaagh. Tigirius himself is accompanying the task force.

As the Incarnate approached the planet its sensors detected another vessel in orbit over the planet. Captain Agemman observed the sensor logs, alarms sounded throughout the ship, he activated his vox transmitter "All space marines prepare for boarding action!" he ordered.

"Ork Krooza is powering its weapons batteries!" the sensor officer reported.

"Weapons officer, target the Ork Krooza and fire the forward guns as well as torpedoes and launch thunderhawks." barked Agemman.

"Aye sir," replied the weapons officer.

In space the two vessels faced off, the Ork ship began to launch fighter-bombers as well as launching boarding pods, while the battle barge started firing its heavy prow bombard cannons at the Ork vessel, the shots pierced the port side of the ship, it started to vent atmosphere. As the Ork Kill Krooza attempted to flee it engines were hit and failed, detonating shortly after, tearing the ship to pieces.

During the fight in space the fight inside the ship was intense, boarding pods crashed into the hull and released their contents, hundreds of Ork boys shouted their war cries and waved their choppas and shootas, the space marines were ready, forming barricades they fired controlled bursts of fire into the Orks, killing all of them before they could engage in melee.

Brother Revan was making some last minute bolter checks before his squad was assaulted by a mob of Orks. "Form up controlled burst of fire!" barked sergeant Octavius.

Revan aimed at the nearest Ork and fired a trio of shot and was rewarded with a scream from the Ork as its head exploded from the bolter shells. He had little time to celebrate before another Ork took his place, a lucky shot hit brother Calistus but did little to harm the space marine, in return Calistus fired his bolter and the Ork fell in a heap of blood and organs.

Sergeant Octavius was firing his bolt pistol calmly and taking the lives one Ork after another with cold precision before an Ork managed to dodge all the incoming fire and get within hitting range of the sergeant, before he could even raise his axe he was staring straight at the teeth of the chainsword, he could only scream as the chainsword swept across and decapitated the Ork.

After several minutes of intense close combat that felt like ages all the Orks were finally slain, their bodies littering the hallway, sergeant Octavius told his marines to regroup and tend to the fallen. "All space marine squads prepare for planetary insertion," ordered captain Agemman.

On the bridge of the Incarnatus captain Agemman examined what was left of the Ork Kill Krooza, he could make out what was left of the prow part of the ship. "All space marine squads prepare for planetary insertion," he spoke into the ship wide vox transmitter. With that he stood and made his way to his quarters to retrieve his weapons and prepare to meet with Chief Librarian Tigirius.

Tigirius was meditating before the battle barge engaged the Ork Kill Krooza, when it did he immediately put on his psychic hood and took his force weapon, also preceded to make his way to the bridge. The battle had ended as fast as it had started, and he met up with captain Agemman just as he was leaving the bridge. "Report." Tigirius ordered. "The Ork vessel has been destroyed lord, we are in orbit over Corinth and prepared to make planet fall after the techmarines have blessed the force's war machines." reported Agemman.

"Excellent, when the Techmarines are finished brief the men under your command and begin launching drop pods at these target locations," he handed a data slate to the captain, "secure the drop zone and begin to move onto the city."

"Very well," said Agemman. "I will personally accompany the troops." He made a curt bow and moved to execute his orders.

Tigirius waited until Agemman left before going back to his quarters. When he got the he sat on the floor cross legged and opened his mind to the Warp. It was then that he detected something foul on the planet's surface. The sensation lasted for a moment before it vanished into the sea of minds. _Traitors_ he thought, Chaos must be influencing the Orks.

No doubt the Ultramarines will be forced to battle their traitorous brethren.

Revan was standing at attention in the midst of his brothers, "We are to retake the capital before we can drive the Orks from the planet," Agemman was saying. "First we must establish a landing zone for the heavy armour. We are not the only Chapter participating in the drop, we will be given certain locations to secure, before the Guard and the other Chapters come to clean up." "Any questions?" No one said a word. "Good, then you better prepare, we will be dropping in, in half an hour and may the Emperor guide us." He made an Imperial aquilia across his chest, all the marines repeated the salute before moving to their designated posts.

In orbit over the planet the Emperor Incarnatus started to fire its lance batteries onto the target zone, hundreds beams of light crashed onto the planet leaving large craters on the surface. Then dozens of ports opened up on the belly of the ship, drop pods exited their births and descended Corinth's atmosphere.

**Hey guys this is my first fanfic so let me know if I make any mistakes. **


	2. Planetfall

**Chapter 2**

**Planet fall**

The drop pods flew into Corinth's atmosphere, heating up as they fell, the planetary bombardment had ended moments earlier, creating large craters in open ground and leveling Ork buildings. Several lance beams demolished an Ork Mek Shop, just as a newly cobbled together War Wartrukk was exiting, another lance landed directly on a Ork Mek who was working on his brand new Shock Attack Gun, which could shoot gretchins through the warp, making the them insane in the proccess, before they emerged into their enemies armour.

The inhabitants of the buildings that surived the rain destruction, left what they were doing to see what was going on and saw dozens of comets crash into the ground, the Orks didn't realise that they were drop pods until it was too late, when the crash doors flew open and squads of blue armoured super humans came running out, without a sound they took aim and released volleys of deadly bolter fire into the startled Orks.

"We'ze all gonna die!" screamed some Ork Boy.

"Get back to fighting ya gretchin lovin git!" bellowed Grognob over the din of gunfire. Grognob looked around and saw a krak missle heading for him and jumped out of the way just in time "Damn dem humies, dey got very good aim, but not good 'enuf to hit a Nob!" he said to no one in particular.

Revan saw the carnage as he and his squad finally arrived, hundreds of Orks had died in the first few seconds of the engagement, dozens more were caught in explosions from heavy weapons, Ork vehicles were being pinned by space marine devastators. He sighted an Ork nob who had just dodged a krak missile and was now leading a mob of his boyz against a devastator squad bellowing their war cries as they went, Sergeant Octavius was finishing up with a Burna Boy who got too close to the Sergeant for his own good.

"Sergeant!" Revan yelled pointing at the Orks who were nearing the devastator squad. Octavius looked where Revan was indicated, the devastators were busy pinning the Ork vehicles to focus on the mob of greenskins, so he spoke into his vox transmitter. "Brother Arterus reinforce squad Morteus and fight off the Ork mob."

"Yes sir," said brother Arterus then motioned the brothers under his command to form up on him.

Revan watched as Arterus and his men neared the devastators and opened fire on the Ork mob, several Orks got caught off guard and fell quickly but the barrage but sevaeral more turned their guns on the new arrivals, Arterus himself came toe to toe with the Ork nob and quickly slew him with his combat knife.

While the Ultramarines fought against the Orks, a large Imperial fleet had dropped out of the warp and joined the _Emperor Incarnatus_ in orbit. The fleet consisted of several Lunar-class cruisers, four squadrons of escort and picket ships and at the head of the fleet was the Apocalypse-class battleship _Fury_, there were also Space marine elements in the fleet from different Chapters.

Battlebarges from the Black Templars, Crimson Fists, Blood Angels, Salamanders and White Scars positioned themselves to deliver their deadly cargo onto the planet. But there were also smaller strike cruisers accompanying their bigger counterparts, in the assualt on the planet. Hundreds of drop pods shot out of their berths followed shortly by dozens of thunderhawk gunships.

Unknown to the Imperium on the far side of the planet another warp rift opened and Slaughter-class cruiser along with several massive transport ships exited the warp, the _Daemonic Visage_, the flagship of the Chaos warlord Ferus of the Word Bearers Legion, and entered low orbit.

On the bridge of the _Visage_, Ferus turned his hate filled gaze at the planet and bared his fang like teeth. _This is it,_ he thought to himself, _This is where we will crush the Ultramarines once and for all._ Ferus had come here to supply the Orks with weapons and man power to aid in the destruction of the Imperial forces in the sector, Chaos forces were already here with the previous supply drop, he knew that the Space marines of the Ultramarines had thwarted the Orks ability to make a Waaagh against them in the past, but now the threat of the Tyranids has drawn the attention of the Ultramarines, as far as he knew the Tyranids managed to cut a bloody swath throught the Eastern Fringe of the Galaxy and that they had come very close to defeating the Ultramarines on their own home planet.

He also heard that with the threat of the Tyranids the Ultramarines had to focus all their efforts on stopping the extragalactic menace from spearding too far. That meant that this new threat was taxing the Ultramarines strength, meaning all their troops would be sent to combat the Tyranids across the galaxy, leaving Ultramar virtually undefended by their superhuman inhabitnats, a lethal mistake for them if they hadn't significantly weakened the Ork empire of Charadon.

The Arch-Arsonist of Charadon has waited a long time for a moment to strike at his mortal enemies, and had used what he called a Weird Boy to communicate with Ferus, the Word Bearers had waited a long time to destroy one of the Emperors most loyal Space marine Chapters and the goals of the Orks were the same as those of Chaos. If they could crush the Imperium forces here then the Ultramarines that have already been shipped out would be too late to stop the Waaagh from consuming their home.

"Communications servitor." he growled still staring at the planet.

"Yes, your Darkness?" the communications servitor replied.

"Order the transports to land and begin our operation," he ordered the comunication servitor.

"As you wish, your Darkness." the servitor complied and begon the transmission.

The lumbering transports left orbit and began to land on the surface. The sensor servitor approached the Chaos Lord.

"Transports have landed my lord," reported the sensor servitor.

"Gooood," replied Ferus, now Chaos has a real chance of crushing one of their hated enemies once and for all. He stood up and examined his Daemon sword.

"Prepare my shuttle, then get the ship to the outer edge of the system, stay out of sensor range or the Imperials might detect you here and then await the signal to come and pick us up," he told the navigation and comm servitors. "As you command, Lord," they spoke in unison with their dull mechanical voices. Ferus looked at them in disgust before walking off the bridge toward the shauttle bay.


	3. Siege Part 1

**Chapter 3 **

** The Siege Part 1 **

The Arch-Arsonist Gorbag of Charadon stood on a ramshackle balcony curiously protruding out of his Planetary Defense Fortress. The layout of the fortress itself betrayed the inhabitants to be Orks, the basic layout was just several walls surrounding a large complex, spires rose from each right-angled corner, each spire bristled with the points of weaponry on it, be it ZZap Cannons or massive ground to space defensive Blasta-Cannons.

The fortress was once an Imperial stronghold that was before the Orks came along; the previous garrisons as usual were butchered as the Orkish custom stated. Now the fortress has been "buffed up" with dozens of gun implements were added to its already considerable arsenal and exhaust pipes, it still resembled a castle with spires at each corner and a large roof top, but its frame is all that remains, the belly of the fort itself has been mostly hollowed out, converted in to massive Ork Staging point in their invasion of Human space.

The fortress originally stood in a large clearing in the middle of an equatorial jungle, the fortress walls have been since damages and altogether destroyed in places, and the woods surrounding the fortress was vaporized by the Orkish War Ships, miles of the forest was cleared with their ships in orbit. The Empty space created was being put to good use, dozens of Ork ships littered the many makeshift ports, Ork Krooza's and a fleet of ships were grounded here awaiting repairs from the Meks, the fields were also littered with a plethora of War Factories churning out war machines ranging from Wartrukks to massive Stompas, the feared Ork Titans.

Gorbag was enjoying the view he was happy as an Ork Warboss could be all was going according to plan, he grew angry when he thought that infact all of this wasn't his plan, instead those damned Chaos Marines schemes, but he did not fret he was after all The Arch-Arsonist Gorbag of Charadon as the humies called him he himself had a few tricks up his sleeve. He was about to yell out for Grog to drink when several ships landed, he watched them and grunted angrily.

The ships looked similar to Imperial transports, they were colored in a deep red covered in spikes, skulls on pikes, mutilated corpses and had large eight-pointed stars emblazoned on their bellies and wings upon its prow and tail-wing there was a distinct mark, the heraldry of one of the traitor legions a deamonic head marked with fire. The Word Bearers had arrived.

_Chaos Boyz..._ Gorbag thought to himself. _By Gork Dey fink they are better than da Orkz? Not a groggin way! By Mork We'll show dem soon nouf!_.

A ship glided gently toward the crudely marked Landing zone which was nothing more than a red and blue bullseye in the only open area of the crowded roof top. The lead Thunderhawk, with a flaming daemonic head upon its chin landed first followed by two more as four escorts darted above for and maneuvered for another pass. A ramp extended from the belly of the Thunderhawks and from it emerged a throng of large figures dressed in deep red power armour, trimmed with silver, on their left shoulder pads they carried the flaming head of a daemon, the sign of the Word Bearers Legion. Each Chaos Marine carried a master crafted bolter in their arms. As they descended from the ramps they took defensive position and at last a contingent of Warriors in Deep red armour, trimmed in gold appeared surrounding a taller and bulkier figure, the Honour Guard formed up and created an armoured corridor for their Lord and master.

The Chaos Lord wore a flowing red cape and upon his Shoulder he carried the Mark of the Legion. Unlike his brethren who carried bolters the Lord had a long staff upon which there was the Eight pointed Star of Chaos at its head an accursed crozius they called it, upon his thigh was holstered an arcane melta gun, in his free mailed palm he held his horned helmet.

"Took ya long naf." mocked Gorbag as several Mega Armoured Nobz showed up alongside the Warboss.

"Chaos moves at its own speed, alien, not yours." snapped back Ferus.

"Do ya die any fasta?" inquired Gorbag. The Chaos Warlord shot him a venomous look, in his eyes the unnatural fire of the warp shined. He ignored what the Ork said and continued "I have brought the last shipment of weapons, equipment and warriors, Ork."

"Good, 'cause dem Marine boyz 'av ar'dy smashed up one of me bases." said Gorbag in a guttural tone. Ferus was amused by the Orks minor setback "Well then, down to business."

In planetary orbit above the Imperial fleet took its positions ready for the next phase. On the bridge of the _Emperor Incarnatus_ Captain Sicarus, Hero of the Medusa Campaign, stood, in his shining blue power armour with golden trim he had a flowing blue cape with a red trim, which flowed gently. He was examining battle report when he was interrupted.

"Excuse me Captain, several ships have exited the warp, freighter class ships, sir, they are being escorted by the Battlebarge _Dorn's Fist_ from the Imperial Fists Chapter." reported the sensor Crewman, snapping Sicarus from his report.

"Thank you, Crewman the ground forces have arrived, return to your station and report to the deck crew to ready the Thunderhawks… immediately, Ensign." ordered Sicarus as the crewman ran to carry out the command he tapped a few runes on the data pad before him and proceeded to the ship inter-vox "All hands prepare to Initiate Battle Sequence Alpha-0 Code 6 on 4457. This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill" he briefly glanced at the world below from the orbit he said a prayer to his Primarch and the Emperor before leaving the bridge.

On the planet below the Space marines had erected a temporary base camp and staging ground for the assault on Corinth Prime, the capital of the planet. The capital was a good example of an ordinary hive city until the Ork invasion. The Hive cities of the Imperium are massive Arcology like spire with different buildings protruding out of the mass. The Hive City can be kilometers high, and hundreds of meters below ground, making this one of the hardest battlefields for the Imperium's Armed Forces. The Tactics used by the Space Marine Chapters is to insert space marine strike teams through the underground tunnels and infiltrate the city. Most of the strike teams would be from the Raven Guard if they are at hand, after all its their speciality, but in most cases there will be an inter-chapter Strike force of the most experienced warriors assembled together and inserted into the hive city.

Revan was double checking his power armour, polishing the Ultramarine symbol on his left shoulder pad as he admired the sign Brother Arterus, having his usual blank face, entered his quarters.

"Brother Sergeant Octavius has ordered the squad to report to him before the Mass in the mess hall and to be battle ready." He said in a cold monotonous voice to Revan.

"Thank you Brother Arterus inform the Brother Sergeant that I will be there." Revan replied before he ordered his Armour servitors to conduct their ritual and armour him.

He held his helmet in his hands, the blood red lenses stared back at him, around him the servitors fixed the last of the battle plates of his power armour, he donned his helmet and recited the Prayer of the Blessed Armour, he opened his personal armoury door and a servitor from within handed him his chainsword, he proceeded to buckle it onto his waist, and last of all he was presented with his sacred Bolter and eight Bolter magazines, he was ready for battle he thought as he knelt to pray to his Primarch and his God-Emperor as he formed and aquila across his chest.

In the mess hall there were dozens of squads of marines from different companies, scanning the hall he walked to his squad.

"Brother Revan, has arrived. Now the briefing may proceed." said Sergeant Octavius. "We have been chosen to infiltrate the hive city. Our objectives are to sabotage anything that could help the defense of the city, we are also provided with secondary priorities we are to locate and kill five of this Ork Warlord's cronies leading the defense of the city, and we are to finish this mission no matter the cost. As it is Only in Death does your duty end to the Emperor, Blessed be his Name,"

"Blessed be his Name" echoed the squad. After he defined the target objectives and the tactical support to his squad he added the end note. "We are leaving in one standard battle hour, prepare yourselves, may the Emperor guide us." he formed and aquila across his chest and his brothers followed suite.

One battle hour later Revan was walking up the ramp into a waiting Thunderhawk, he took his seat between Brother Calistus and Brother Lucion, Calistus was a calculating man, always looking at all the possibilities before acting, Lucion was more arrogant than Calistus, there was also Apothecary Meron, the dark-skinned Brother Zuma and his closest thing to a friend Brother Thalion, him and Thalion were Battle-brothers since there inception as Space Marines two decades ago, they had been through many trials and battles together and shared many a battle-scar.

But then there were others there as well those that he didn't really know from other squads and some form his own like Brother Gorn, a fresh marine from the scout company and Brother Severus, a transfer marine form the sixth company. At last there was Sergeant Caligus Octavius, a veteran of dozens of campaigns, he had the blood of hundreds if not thousands of xenos and heretics on his hands in his long life.

He stood with the Sergeants of Squad Equilon and Squad Darius next to the holo-field matrix as they discussed something in private, their conversation was drowned out by the roar of the engines as the ship proceeded to move. The sergeants took their seats, this ship contained three tactical Squads from different chapters the Ultramarines sent Revan's Squad, Squad Octavius, the Imperial Fists sent Brother Sergeant Elthan Darius and the Raven guard sent Squad Equilon led by Brother Sergeant Delos Equilon this would be a glorius battle indeed.

The trip to the surface was longer than Revan expected, he gripped his Bolter tightly and checked his gear for a millionth time before Brother Thalion's voice cut into his routine "Calm down, Brother, Sweet Terra you have checked your gear for the last time" Revan Smiled beneath his helmed face

"Have faith, in the Emperor, and Primarch" he continued, in a tense voice he said "And of all have faith in your Battle Brothers and you will see your self pull through the toughest trials the Emperor has set us to face in the fires of Battle." Revan looked up at Thalion and chuckled "The Litany of Preparation eh? I thought you said you don't read?" joked Revan,

"On the contrary Brother I have regained a little of my senses from prayer and the advise of the Chaplain".

"A little encouragement never hurt anyone" Revan said as they finished of the conversation, right when the landing beacons lit up as they reached their destination, when the ramp lowered, the space marines filed out one by one onto the ground below. From the landing zone they proceeded in good order toward the Defensive lines to the west, where the central Planetary Command was established.

Within the trenches were men, thousands of men of the Imperial Guardsmen and hundreds of Space Marines. They were all preparing for a prolonged siege of the city on the horizon, dozens of heavy artillery positions were being prepared as Space Marines helped Guardsmen, the area was littered temporary base camps and a long airstrip served as a temporary airbase and fuel stations for bombers.

Revan followed his brothers through the trenches until they reached the main command complex; it was a large well built structure and it felt as if it had been dropped from the orbit and dug in, upon the flanks Revan spied many a enginseer attending to the various mechanical and technological parts of the Bunker, as they entered the complex and descended toward the Command Council commander of the overall Imperial forces on the planet.

General Alexander was a stout man, armoured in adamantium plates and was armed with a fearsome pair of lightning claws, his face betrayed years of collective thinking and experience. Revan spied a large scar across his face which started from his right jaw to his left eye, which was infact a red-eyed implant. The general has had previous experience fighting alongside the Space Marines, the Ultramarines in particular. He was curiously examining a holo-map of the Hive-City when the Strike-Team entered.

The strike force assembled in the hall as the Brother-Sergeants and even Brother-Captains along with their respective subordinates filled the room, the temporary command center was surprisingly massive.

"General Alexander, greetings" Octavius said while Forming the Aquila. "Brother Sergeant Octavius of the fifth company, reporting for duty." Brother-Sergeant continued the rest of the Brother-Sergeants followed suit, the general for a moment observed the assembled Strike-Force of the Space Marines, silently, calculating.

"The Emperor Protects," said the General forming an Aquila "now that everyone is here." There was a brief pause as the general cleared his throat. "You have been selected to infiltrate the city, using this pipe system, according to Intelligence; the Orks will have a small presence in the Lower City, as all their wretched attention is now on us, here at ground level. I have no doubt that as long as you stay covert you will have little to worry about until you get to street level." Another brief pause, the General reached for a pile of data slates.

"Here are your targets." He handed each of the squad leaders a data slate. "Hit these targets hard and fast and you should be able to avoid detection. When the objectives are completely contact the nearest command unit and hold your position and await further orders we will make the an assault on the city when your operations are complete, the operation starts in one hour so prepare. Have Faith in the Emperor, beloved by all, and he will protect." All the imperials within the room formed the Aquila and followed allowed "The Emperor Protects!".

The general proceeded to examine the holo-map when a messenger came running in brushing past Revan, he whispered something in the General's ear, "If you will excuse me Honoured Astartes, I have another matter to attend to" he made a curt bow and exited the room with his throng of lackeys and bodyguards.

Revan knew they were about to head into one of the fiercest fights he has ever fought but he took heart and made a quick prayer to the Emperor, Thalion as usual interrupted his thoughts, "It seems the Machine spirit of the armour does me no good. Throne, help me! This armour is too small." He was right too thought Revan, Thalion was a big man even for an Astartes and he was always a better fit in a Terminator armour, even the brother sergeant thought so as Thalion took the longest to arm and armour himself and has been punished plenty of times for that, suddenly Revan's thoughts ceased as he prepared to board the Thunderhawk, this was indeed going to be a fierce battle.

**Sorry for the wait, if I didnt get any help from my cowriter it would have taken even longer, so review.**


	4. Siege Part 2

**Chapter 4**

**The Seige Part 2**

Floating high in orbit, fully half of the menacing Imperial fleet had created a massive blockade around the planet, while the other half had spread throughout the sector. The fleet was made up of dozens of ships of many different classes, ranging from the massive Emperorclass starships to smaller battle cruisers and frigates. One of the most impressive ships in the blockade was the Ultramarines Battle Barge, the Emperor Incarnatus. On the bridge of the Incarnatus, Captain Sicarus stood examining his majestic lightning claws, when a message from the surface came.

"Sir, we have received a coded transmission from base camp," reported the comm officer. He handed the captain a data slate. "An orbital strike," Sicarus muttered to himself as he studied the data slate. "Very well. Inform the Techpriests to begin blessing the weapon batteries, then send the coordinates to our gunners."

"Yes sir!" replied the comm officer with a salute, turning to speak into the ship's communication system. "Attention! All hands, man your stations! Initiate code 13A!" The crew of Incarnatus rushed to comply with the order, scurrying around the ship to their various tasks, while the Techpriests solemnly began their rites of blessing. Muttered litanies mingled with the shouts of the crew as the battleship turned toward the planet.

An hour passed before the Incarnatus was finally in position to fire. Along its broadside, hundreds of weapon ports slid open, revealing a massive array of bombardment cannons. Inside the ship, dozens of chapter serfs loaded up the charges, while Techpriests and servitors stood at consoles displaying ancient looking runes, technical readouts, and sensor logs.

Meanwhile, on a looted church roof in Corinath, Ragnor was making some last minute checks on his Custom Shoota when he heard a peculiar sound, like low pitched thunder. The Ork Flash Git glanced up at the cloudy sky above. _Must be 'nother storm comin' in_, he thought. To his horror, the sky began to glow as holes appeared through the cloud cover and massive energy blasts punched through, raining death and destruction on Corinath.

At first, only a few dozen beams of energy struck the city before the barrage ended abruptly. After a few tense moments, the barrage started again as hundreds of orbital blasts smashed into Corinath. Any Orks caught out in the open were instantly vaporized, while those that had managed to find shelter in small buildings survived the initial bombardment, cowering under cover and praying to Gork and Mork that they would survive the attack.

From the Imperial base camp, General Alexander was inspecting line after line of trenches, when one of the Guardsmen glanced up and yelled, "Look!" Alexander turned his eyes to the sky to witness a massive firestorm descending on the city. Giant white beams of lance energy crashed into Corinath, decimating the city and striking several of the larger structures. Many buildings were turned into piles of debris or pounded to the ground. Large fires had started up and chunks of buildings had been torn free from some buildings. The city itself–thanks to its sturdy Imperial design–stood tall.

Lord Ferus was conversing with one of his trusted lieutenants, in his makeshift base camp inside the city when the bombardment began. A distant rumble reached the Chaos Lord's ears, as cries from his slaves and workers filled the air. Ferus gazed up into the sky and saw hundreds of beams of coherent light crashing into the surrounding buildings. Incredibly, none of the damaged structures collapsed onto his troops.

A roar in the sky foretold an incoming bombardment attack on Ferus' position. _What a funny way_ _do die_, he thought, _vaporized by an Imperial bombardment_. The servant of Chaos raised his arms into the air, calling forth the arcane forces of the Warp. Several miles up in the sky, the descending beams shuddered slowly, gradually swerving away from the Chaos army and impacting among the panicking Orks. Ferus smiled coldly. The Dark Gods were with him today.

In the Imperial camp, General Alexander and his men watched in awe as the bombardment ceased. A Guard messenger rushed to the General, managing to stop himself before he collided with the officer. Alexander looked at the messenger placidly.

"Calm yourself, Guardsman...Report."

"The Orks are vacating the city, sir. The bombardment's killed a good number of their troops," the exhausted messenger reported.

Dref was running as fast as his stubby but strong legs could carry him, desperate to get out of Corinath. The Ork Nob dashed past what was left of the gates of the city, passing the slower Orks in a burst of panicdriven speed. Stopping outside the city walls, Dref turned around and saw hundreds of Orks fleeing the city, running for the safety of the open plains. It was too late that he recognized the uniformed lines of Imperial troops marching toward him and his army of greenskins. Advancing in standard formation, the Guard infantry were massed in front of the larger tanks and Basilisk artillery. A number of large superhuman Space Marine squads trudged alongside the Imperial troops, armed with bolters, chainswords, and other deadly weapons. Suddenly, the Nob's feeling of panic was replaced by a hunger, a hunger to fight, a hunger for blood. Only one thought surfaced in Dref's simple mind.

"Come on, boyz! Let's give dese humies a poundin'!" he roared to his warriors. A resounding "WAAAAAAAAAGGHH!" issued from the mob of Orks as they raised their choppas and shootas, racing toward the enemy like a green flood.

Alexander surveyed the scene from a nearby hilltop. Hundreds of men in flak jackets armed with lasguns and knives marched forward toward the charging Orks. Dozens of Space Marines strode beside his men, towering half a meter above their heads. Row after row of tanks were lined up behind the Guard lines, their barrels swiveling toward the mob of xenos.

The Orks were a disorganized bunch of brutes. Their lines were a mess, virtually nonexistant. A dozen crudelybuilt tanks rolled sluggishly through the crowd, belching black smoke from their primitive engines. There were times where Alexander would have been appalled at the sight, but then again, he could expect no more from such a barbaric race of bloodthirsty aliens.

In the Imperial base camp, a lone Thunderhawk landed, sending a cloud of dust spreading across the encampment as it touched down. The ramp slowly lowered with a hiss of pneumatics, and half a dozen Space Marines, clad in gold trimmed blue power armor stepped out. The warriors all wore capes and were armed with power swords and bolters; a fearsome image if ever there was. The Ultramarine honor guard took their positions, forming a corridor on both sides of the ramp. When they finally took their positions, a lone figure emerged from within the transport, striding down the walkway between the two lines of Marines. The figure wore a red cloak and held an arcanelooking staff with a horned head, whose eyes seemed to hold fire within their gaze. A bolt pistol was clutched in his hand, and a metal hood covered his head, with wires and tubes running down the back of his armor.

Tigirius surveyed his surroundings, looking around the vast camp. The Librarian instantly turned his gaze toward a group of Guardsmen, beckoning to their leader, a Lieutenant by the name of Grovel. He was a tall and skeletal man, gaunt and thinlooking. Grovel bowed respectfully as Tigirius approached him.

"Welcome, Lord." the lieutenant said in greeting.

"What is the situation, Lieutenant?" Tigirius asked, looking Grovel straight in the eye.

"General Alexander is proceeding with Plan Alpha, and has begun his siege of the city." replied Grovel.

Tigirius idly looked around the camp, turning away from the officer.

"Good," said the Librarian. "All goes well, then."

Revan stood alongside his brothers as the lance blasts continued to pulverize the city. Most of his squad had never seen a fullscale orbital bombardment, and thus, didn't know what to expect from it. Revan had heard of the terrible effects of the battleship's firepower, but had never witnessed it in action. Sergeant Octavius, on the other hand, was not so surprised when he saw it, being a veteran of many battles. After the light show ended abruptly, Octavius turned to his Marines "Brothers! Prepare yourselves, for we now march into enemy territory! Remember your training, trust in the Emperor and Primarch, and trust in your brothers, for we shall have victory this day!"

"May the Emperor guide us." Octavius finished. "We are the Angels of Death, and we serve in His name." replied the rest of the Marines, marching into the tunnels below the camp. After about ten minutes of trudging through the dark cavern, the tunnel split into five different trails, each leading off into the blackness. The squad stopped in their tracks abruptly. Sergeant Octavius looked at their options, then glanced down at one of his data slates, a frown forming on his aged face. "We will split into five groups," he ordered. "Each group will be given a specific target to neutralize." As the Sergeant spoke, he handed out data slates to each pair of Marines. "When you complete your individual objectives, we will regroup at the Cathedral of the Saints. Move out, and may the Emperor be with you!" The Marines hurried off to see to their tasks.

Revan strode through his tunnel, examining his data slate with his helmetmounted light. Thalion silently followed him, occasionally muttering some comment about "grunt's work". After several hours of walking through the dark depths, Revan began to hear faint screams and muffled explosions. They must have engaged the enemy.

"A large battle, to be sure," Thalion said, as though he was reading Revan's thoughts.

"The Guard must be bombarding the life out of those scum," Revan agreed.

"I must admit, they are thorough in their duties."

"You can count on them to make the battlefield into a cratered hell,"

Thalion added, glancing up as a shell hit directly above the tunnel, shaking both Marines.

"Let us concentrate on our mission, Thalion," Revan said, changing the subject.

The Marines walked for another half hour before they finally reached the end of the tunnel. Revan shouldered his bolter and surveyed the surrounding area. Quickly and quietly, the Marine jogged to the nearest door, followed closely by Thalion. Shouldering open the door, Revan stuck the muzzle of his bolter outside. For a tense moment, there was nothing but silence. Revan checked his auspex, seeing that there were several unidentified creatures just down the hallway. From the sounds they were making, it wasn't very hard to figure out that the creatures were Orks. He made a series of hand movements to Thalion, who nodded and moved through the doorway, down the hallway and into a concealing nook.

Revan followed suit dashing out of cover as he lobbed a frag grenade toward the group of xenos. The fuse blew as it hurtled into the Orks, shrapnel flying in all directions. Two greenskins were instantly killed by the blast, and another suffered horrible injuries to its face from ricocheting shards of metal. The Nob was the only Ork to come out of the explosion without too many serious injuries, roaring in anger and surprise. Thalion made his move, rolling from cover as he raised his bolter. His eyes met with those of the Ork for a split second, before his bolt round struck the Nob in the face, blasting its head open.

When the smoke cleared, Thalion and Revan stood in a charred room with four

dead Orks.

"Good shooting, Brother," Revan congratulated his friend. "Now let us attend to our mission."

"Agreed," Thalion replied.

While the two Space Marines were making their way to their objective, the surface battle continued to rage on. General Alexander stood in the Imperial HQ, issuing orders to his troops. "Pull battalions 3,4,7,12 and 16 back to the second battle line," he barked at a comm officer."

"Scouts have identified Ork artillery, sir." a tactical officer announced.

"Have Basilisks 3 and 4 take them out," ordered the general tersely.

"Sir!" one of the comm officers exclaimed. "I've received a report from the frontlines!"

"What is it?" Alexander asked, striding over to the officer's station.

"We just lost 5 frontline squads to artillery bombardment," the officer reported, frantically entering coordinates into his data screen.

"Ork artillery?"

"No, the ordnance scans don't match up with any known Ork weapons."

"Then who fired?"

"Sir, only one army in the galaxy has that much firepower!"

"Who?" The general was beginning to lose his patience.

"The forces of The Great Enemy, sir." the officer stated, apprehension clearly present in his voice. Alexander's aged face now hinted at his emotion: fear.

"Emperor protect us," he whispered, making the sign of the aquila across his chest.

Lord Ferrus stood in what was left of the city walls, overlooking the battlefield. He smiled, observing the Imperials and Orks ripping each another apart in a bloody melee. Explosions and gunfire peppered the battling armies as they fought to push each other back.The Chaos Lord turned to a sorcerer standing behind him. An old friend, Saren had fought alongside him ever since they had become servants of the Ruinous Powers.

"Tell the men we will join battle with the Imperials and the Ork scum,"

Ferrus quietly declared. "There will be much blood spilt this day."

"As you wish, my lord," replied Saren. "Blood for the Blood God!"

**Sorry for the long wait, here is the next chapter of the story.**

**R&R please.**


	5. Chaos Move

**_Chapter 5_**

**_Chaos move_**

As the growling Ork raised its deadly battleaxe, Sergeant Baker drew his bolt pistol, throwing out his arm toward the belly of the greenskin. With a grunt of exertion, the Guardsman squeezed the weapon's trigger, propelling a deuterium shell out of its barrel and into the unprotected stomach of the Ork. A squealing roar of pain issued from the beast's throat as it slumped over onto Baker, a horrific wound blown in its torso. The sergeant disgustedly shoved the alien's carcass off of him, wincing as a few drops of Ork blood splattered into his face. Shaking his head to dislodge any chunks of viscera that might have hit him.

Another Guardsman ran to his side, pulling Baker upright by his arm. As the sergeant wiped the beast's blood out of his eyes, the remnants of the battlefield came into view. The battle has lasted for several hours now, and there seemed to be no clear victory in sight. More and more Orks piled into the trenches like a tide of green insects, roaring "WAAAAAAAGH!" as they charged.

"Regroup on me, you dogs!" roared Baker to his men, raising his bolt pistol to the sky. "They haven't won yet! For the Emperor!"

Baker's vox system suddenly crackled into life. "All squads...all back to the...ine repea...fall bac...o the second defenc...lin..."

The message shut off suddenly as a storm of static overtook the broadcast. Baker glanced around the trench, looking at each of the Guardsmen in turn. "We've received new orders, men. We are to fall back to the second defensive lines and await further orders. Are you with me?" "Sir, yes sir!" roared the Guardsmen, rushing toward the rear wall of the trench to pull themselves out. Baker had hauled himself halfway clear of the trench, when he heard the distinct sound of bolter fire. Space Marines. _Finally, some real reinforcements_! As the sergeant turned around, a terrifying sight met his eyes. A wave of shells poured into the trench, ripping apart fully half of his men before he could realize what had happened. It was not Orks that had slaughtered them, but Space Marines, clad in blood red power armour, trimmed in silver. The warriors had horns protruding from their helmets, and their bolters had some sort of skulls attached to the front of the weapons, giving them a truly frightening appearance.

With cries of "DEATH TO THE ENEMY!", the crimsonarmoured Marines charged toward the trench, firing round after round at the trapped and panicking Guardsmen.

"Volley!!" Baker screamed. What remained of his squad raised their guns to fire as the giant Chaos Marines moved in for the kill, unsheathing deadly knives from their belt sheaths. Lasgun fire reflected harmlessly off their power armour, not even slowing their advance. The Marines kept advancing even as concentrated lasfire claimed two of their number, ripping through the cracks in their power armour and killing the warriors. Motivated by the sight of the dying Chaos warriors, some Guardsmen grew foolish enough to try to fight handtohand. They were ripped apart in seconds, gutted and beheaded by the cruel weapons of the traitor warriors. Blood flowed in crimson streams from the bodies, limbs were hacked off like wheat under a scythe's blade, and bodiless heads rolled across the battlefield. The ground was stained with vitae and organs, a nightmarish visage of the end of the world. It was obvious from the sounds the Marines were making that they were enjoying every moment of the slaughter, laughing like madmen as they massacred Baker's soldiers.

_If this is the way I am to die, then so be it_! The sergeant raised his chainsword and bolt pistol, shouting "For the Emperor!" at the top of his lungs. Heaving himself out of the trench, Baker ran headlong at the nearest Chaos Marine, swinging his roaring chainsword at its head. With a lightningfast movement, the warrior lashed out, slicing through two of Baker's fingers with its knife so quickly that the sergeant didn't even feel pain. His chainsword fell to the ground with his index and middle finger still clamped around the trigger.

The stock of the Chaos Marine's bolter crashed into his head, and all was silent.

Revan and Thalion were engaged in a bloody brawl with two Orks. His bolter forgotten, Thalion was strangling the his enemy with his bare hands, squinting through his bloodstained helmet as the creature writhed and choked beneath the Marine's crushing grip. Revan lunged and parried expertly with his chainsword as the Ork swung its axe with a roar, aiming for his head. He ducked and rolled, cutting the Ork across the waist with a swipe from the weapon. Enraged, the wounded xenos swung its fist, connecting with Revan's chest and propelling the Marine across the room. The Ork stood over him, a savage smile spread across its face as it raised its axe above its head. Time seemed to slow down as the axe swung down in a graceful arc. Suddenly, the axe struck the glowing blade of a power sword, sending sparks of energy flying in every direction as the greenskin's weapon was sliced in half. Revan rolled to the side, spotting his bolter that he had dropped earlier. Reaching out his arm, he grabbed its handle and raised it toward the Ork, but quickly realized that it was dead, its body slumped to the floor, blood pumping through the wound across its throat. Thalion stood triumphantly over the corpse, his power sword sizzling as the drops of Ork blod evaporated as they touched the disintegration field surrounding the weapon.

"My thanks, brother," Revan finally managed to say through gasps of exertion. Thalion just nodded in acknowledgement, stretching out a hand to his battle brother. Revan grabbed his outstretched hand and pulled himself up.

"We should move on, before more come," Thalion stated, glancing backward to check for any surviving Orks.

"Agreed," Revan replied, sliding a fresh clip into his bolter. Moving quickly, the pair of Marines rushed to the nearest doorway, weapons in hand.

General Alexander stood outside the HQ, glaring balefully across the battlefield. In a few short minutes, the skirmish had become a massacre, as Imperial Guard units were ripped apart by the marauding bands of Chaos Marines, slaughtered by Orks, and annihilated by artillery barrages. The only Imperial forces that were making any kind of headway were the tank divisions and the Space Marine units. Pathetic, thought the general as he glanced toward the bunker.

A young ensign ran from the complex, throwing a quick salute to Alexander. "Sir," the Guardsman said breathlessly. Alexander returned the salute.

"Report, soldier."

"All Guard units have fallen back to the second defensive trench line, Space Marine units covering their backs, and the Marauder bombers are beginning their third attack run. The anti-air guns have been silenced and the Space Marines managed to successfully infiltrate the city, but the planetary cannon is still keeping our capital ships from getting into range and bombarding the enemy."

Alexander listened intently as the ensign gave status reports of each individual Imperial unit. When he had finished speaking, Alexander waved him away, turning his attention to the battle at hand. All of the Space Marines seemed to have fallen back to the second trench system joining their Imperial Guard counterparts, who were obviously moved by the presence of the Imperium's finest, but could see that Chaos was beginning to send in their tanks; perverted versions of Predators rolled across the battlefield on rustencased treads, skulls adorning their crimson hulls. On each tank was the symbol of the eight pointed star, symbolizing the Ruinous Powers. Each of the Predator's gun barrels were shaped like the head of a monstrous dragon, which appeared to spew flames from their roaring mouths as their weapons fired. The real terror, however, lurked behind the Predators. The massive hulks of corrupted Land Raiders, the bane of most Imperial ground vehicles, appeared from the city gates, half a dozen of them. As they rolled forth, the traitor crews fired their tainted lascannons, propelling thick beams of coherent crimson light into infantry and vehicle alike. Any infantry struck by the lasbeams were instantly vaporized, while vehicles were melted and fused together. Only one Leman Russ managed to fire off a shot, and found its mark, slamming into the lead Land Raider with a sound like a cannon blast. When the smoke cleared, the massive tank still remained on the battlefield, evidently unaffected. Alexander magnified the view with his auspex, seeing that the Land Raider had only a small dent in its front armour. The Raider returned fire instantly, scoring a direct hit on the Leman Russ and transforming it into a burning wreck and funeral pyre.

Suddenly, the general felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. Instinctively, he reached for his holstered bolt pistol, whirling to face his foe.

"There is no need to draw your weapon, General," a deep voice said.

Alexander found himself staring at the golden Imperial eagle on the blue power armour of a Space Marine. He looked up and immediately recognized one of the most famous Librarians in the whole Imperium. Tigirius grinned down at the man, while Alexander only managed a weak smile,

"I didn't think you would be sent to help us out," the General finally remarked.

"You thought wrong, General," Tigirius replied. "How goes the battle?"

"We are currently engaging the Chaos forces, but we are fighting a losing battle. My Guardsmen are...have fallen back to their defensive positions, for now we are holding our own. It won't be long, though, before a massive daemon incursion will overrun our men. We need to cut them off somehow."

"Very well, General. Our forces have brought heavy tanks and Grey Knights to the battle. They should be more than enough to quell the daemonic entities."

High in orbit, Admiral Constantine, the commander of the Imperial Navy detachment sent to aid in the conquest of the Corinth system, was looking over the daily reports for his vessel, the _Fury_, a very renowned Emperor-class starship that had seen conflict over every reach of the Imperium. The _Fury_ had participated in the 13th Black Crusade as part of the defense fleet around Cadia. Many Chaos battleships had met their end at the barrels of its mighty guns. It wasn't only Chaos ships who had been destroyed by the _Fury_ at pointblank range, for the battleship had destroyed a great number of Ork craft, hundreds of Tyranid bioships and a couple of Dark Eldar vessels, but more impressively, it had engaged and survived an encounter with a nigh-unstoppable Necron Tomb ship during its long lifetime.

Admiral Constantine was reviewing the engine reports when the sensor officer spoke out suddenly.

"Sir, we have contacts on the system's outer edge."

Constantine glanced over to the officer, "Identify."

"I'm reading just over three dozen ships. They seemed to have launched from the system's farthest planet, and are made up of varying classes. I'm also reading a signature from a space hulk," the sensor officer reported. "They are approaching our position, and will be here within two hours."

Constantine frowned, "Very well," he looked at the comm officer,

"Communications officer, tell the fleet to form up on us and prepare to engage the Ork fleet."

"Sir, we are receiving a transmission," the comm officer said abruptly.

"Who sent it?" asked Constantine.

"Space Marines, sir, they are requesting if they can join in on the offensive against the Orks."

"Tell them they can join in on this...operation."

"Yes sir."

Within half of a battle hour, the Imperial fleet had assembled together, the _Fury_ took its rightful position at the head of the force, and the starships began to move toward the fifth planet in the system. When the fleet reached their destination, they formed into several rows, as the battleships spread themselves, the cruisers and frigates filled in the gaps. On the bridge of the _Fury_, Constantine stood up from his command throne.

"Sensors! Where are those Orks?" Constantine barked.

"Sir! We are reading multiple ships approaching our position, 32 degrees to port," the ensign replied.

"Navigator, bring us 28 degrees to starboard. Weapons officer, prepare to

fire port broadside missile and lance batteries." Constantine ordered.

"Yes, sir!" the weapons officer replied, hastily pressing a number of command runes before nodding to the communications officer. The shipwide vox crackled into life.

"Attention! Attention! All personnel report to your battle stations! Repeat, we are initiating a code 13 Alpha 6, all personnel report to your battle stations, prepare to engage hostile vessels!"

Constantine turned to the ship's comm officer again. "Order the squadron leaders to scramble all fighter and bombers. Follow the torpedoes into their intended targets. I want you to open a secure channel to the rest of the fleet after you are finished."

The comm officer nodded. "Yes sir!"

On an Ork Killkrooza, the Ork Nob Salok, who was in charge of the vessel, sat in his crude command chair that the Orks had scavenged off an Imperial cruiser. There were dozens of primitive, yet efficient computer consoles, each operated by either specially trained Mekboyz or Big Meks. One of the messenger Orks ran towards him.

"Wat is it? Why are ya boderin' me?" Salok grunted in annoyance.

"Da humies are comin' our way," replied the alien. "Dey got sum big kroozers, boss!"

"Get da ships in order, we's gonna bash dose humies good!" snarled the Nob.

The Ork fleet formed into a large staggered line of vessels. As soon as the Imperial ships were in firing range they held their position, since Imperial ships were more advanced and sturdier than Ork vessels, they had a far greater range than even the biggest Ork ship. On the hulls of each individual ship, irises and gun ports opened, just like their ancient wooden sea counterparts mellinia ago. Long-range lance batteries rolled out, missile tubes fitted with watchtower sized torpedoes and missiles swiveled into position, and the ship's hangars opened, releasing swarms of deadly Imperial fighters and bombers.

Squad leader Jeff Rasack of the Demolishers squadron made his final system check as he flew out of the Fury's hangar bay.

"Demolishers, let's this by the book! Stick behind your designated torpedoes and hope they don't blast you away. Remember, stay in the torpedoes' exhaust trail to remain undetected. May the Emperor guide and protect us all!" he shouted into his comm system.

"For the Imperium of Man!" his squadron roared in unison. Moments later, the torpedoes fired from the battleships and cruisers, trailing clouds of smoke from their engines. Jeff could just see his squadrons breaking up and taking positions behind their designated torpedoes, while a large Ork fleet loomed in the distance. Turning away, he found his torpedo was already nearly a kilometer away from him. Rasack pushed on the control stick and accelerated forward, until his speed matched that of his torpedo.

From the bridge of the _Fury_, Admiral Constantine watched as the massed volley of torpedoes slowly made their way towards the enemy fleet.

"Sir, I have established a secure channel with the rest of the fleet," the comm officer reported.

"Good, patch me through," replied the admiral. The comm officer pressed a few runes, then turned around and gave a nod to Constantine.

"All Imperial vessels," the admiral ordered into the speaker. "When the torpedoes reach 400 klicks from the enemy vessels, you are to move to optimal firing range. On my command, you will fire a volley into the enemy formations.

May His will guide us!"

The admiral turned to the comm officer and nodded again. The ensign pressed another series of runes, terminating the transmission. A frown formed on Constatines old face. _This is too easy. The Ork fleets usually come in their hundreds, they must be planning something!_ Constantine thought to himself.

Suddenly the sensor officer yelled out from below.

"Sir! We have multiple Warp tears appearing to the left of us!"

The admiral's face suddenly shifted into an expression of concern.

"What? Who could it possibly be?"

Hundreds of miles away from the battle, half a dozen tears in the Warp appeared, and a stream of hellish vessels poured through. The Chaos fleet consisted of a dozen Slaughter-class cruisers, as well as one Desolator-class battleship, all armed to the teeth and packed with bloodthirsty Chaos Marines. The nightmarish ships all bore either an eightpointed star or the flaming daemonic head, the symbol of the Word Bearers Chaos legion.

On the bridge of the Desolator-class battleship _Betrayer_, the Chaos Lord Merat sat in his command throne, overseeing the advance of his fleet. One of the corrupted servitors pressed a series of runes, then buzzed something in machine code. Abruptly it turned and trundled towards the command throne.

"Lord, the sensors have detected that the Imperials have begun to attack the Ork fleet," the servitor reported in its dull mechanized voice.

Merat's face was blank as he turned toward the servitor.

"The fools have taken the bait. Just as i had expected from Imperial scum," he replied. "Prepare the crews for immediate attack."

The servitor withdrew hastily, not wanting to anger its master.

The Orks' defense was minimal at best, and they were able to destroy about a dozen projectiles by means of sporadic and random flak fire, but the majority of the missiles that got through the alien's defenses managed to seriously cripple or destroy any ship that they impacted on. One Ork Kill Krooza made the mistake of trying to broadside the oncoming missiles, exposing its huge form in the process. The torpedoes had no trouble finding their target. At first it seemed as though the ship would just be crippled, a moment later, the ship cracked in half and detonated in a spectacular explosion, creating a shockwave of such intensity that it destroyed two other allied frigates that were near it.

While the Orks and the Imperials were firing on one another, the Chaos armada had formed into a giant wedge, that threatened to plough straight through the Imperial lines, and began to move forward. In a matter of minutes, the Chaos fleet had progressed halfway to its destination. The Imperial fleet now faced a double threat; the remnants of the Ork fleet were now swarmed with Imperial fighters and bombers who had apparently been trailing behind the torpedoes, using the fuel exhaust trails to close in, undetected, on the clumsy Ork fleet.

Admiral Constantine had seen many things in his long years of service to the Emperor of Mankind's Navy, but the sight of the Chaos fleet approaching him still made him shudder, not as much from fear, but revulsion. It was hard to believe that these traitors were once the Emperor's finest troops. _So...this is why the Orks had come in such small numbers, they baited us straight into a trap. No doubt trying to box us in and destroy us, a classic Chaos mistake_.

Relay this message to the rest of the fleet!" he shouted to his comm officer. "Fleet element Alpha should concentrate on the Chaos fleet immediately, while fleet element Zulu will concentrate fire on the Ork fleet. When done, they will join us in destroying these foul traitors!" "Yes, sir!" the officer responded, relaying the message.

The once organized Imperial fleet had broken into two subfleets, each one on its way to engage its intended target. The ensuing firefight was intense, as one ship after another was destroyed. The _Fury_, however, fared better than most. Two Chaos Slaughter-class cruisers had boxed it in, relentlessly bombarding the ship's void shields, when the crew suddenly paused briefly, to recharge and cool down the weapons systems. It was then that the _Fury_ made its move, firing its lance batteries at pointblank range, it managed to cripple one of the cruisers, while directly hiting the bridge of the other, as the bridgeless cruiser spiraled out, it collided with the crippled and both of the ship's reactors detonated in a spectacular, but soundless explosion.

On the outskirts of the battle, well outside the distance of the Imperial and Chaos sensors, a dozen unknown vessels hung in the darkness of space, waiting for the right moment to strike...

**_A note from TheLoneHunter_**: It's not a new thing, but I'll be doing some proofreading of Crusade from now on, just cleaning up and repairing some parts  
that need it. The plot and characters were created by the author. I take no credit for that, only for proofreading this.TLHChapter 5

**_Okay, heres the next chapter of the story, R&R please._**


	6. The fight continues

**Chapter 6  
The Fight Continues**

Onboard the Tears of Isha, Farseer Kaleeth sat in her ornate commander's chair alongside a group of Warlocks, overlooking the bridge of the Void Stalker class battleship, a sleek, ancientlooking vessel, protected by holofields which rendered the craft nearly undetectable. On the bridge, half a dozen rune encrusted consoles stood in rows. The command throne itself sat at the front of the bridge, flanked by two more consoles, while the front viewport bore a large screen from which the results of the battle between Imperium and Chaos played out on its projected surface.

"Should we not intervene?" one of the Warlocks asked, turning to the Farseer.

"No," Kaleeth responded, "The Imperials have yet to draw the remaining cards in their deck."

The Warlock council watched intently, in order to figure out what the Farseer had meant. In moments, their curiosity was satisfied. Half a dozen Hammerhead capital ships, bearing the different emblems and colours of Adeptus Astartes, entered the battle, followed by dozens of small cruisers. When they saw the ships the Eldar immediately recognized who they were. Space Marines.

Admiral Constatine sat rigid in his command chair, overseeing the battle. The Fury rocked violently as dozens of direct hits from the enemy Slaughter-class cruiser impacted on its hull. Slowly, the Emperor-class battleship swerved to the right, exposing its side as row upon row of lascannons silently slid out from their bays, aimed directly toward the Chaos starship.

"Open fire with our port broadsides! Send that traitorous filth back to the Warp!" Constantine ordered.

"Aye, sir!" one of the officers replied, quickly relaying the admiral's order into the ship's communications system.

Constantine watched in satisfaction as the enemy cruiser's shields flared from the concentrated fire from the _Fury_, and then failed altogether. The cruiser was hammered by the battleship, and with no shields and being situated so close to its enemy, the Chaos cruiser had no chance of escape. Its hull was ripped to shreds as hundreds of heavy lance beams bisected the superstructure of the ancient vessel. The fuel inside the ship's engines ignited, creating a spectacular explosion, which briefly outshone the nearest star.

As soon as the debris had cleared, Constantine caught sight of the Chaos flagship, an incredibly old Desolator-class battleship armed with lance battery emplacements of STC design. All of the Desolators had turned to Chaos shortly after their construction, their crews succumbing to the pull of the Warp. They were feared throughout the Imperium for their ability to match and overpower their Imperial counterparts. Although many of the dreaded battleships had been destroyed during the Thirteenth Black Crusade, some had managed to survive, and continued to harass and destroy Imperial convoys and the occasional small planetary defense fleet.

"Helmsman! Get us within firing range of that battleship!" Constantine ordered, shifting uneasily in his chair as he watched the massive ship bearing closer and closer.

"Sir! We have dozen's of new contacts appearing on our flanks," the sensor ensign yelled over the racket on the bridge.

"Order battle group Vanguard to engage the new arrivals. We will deal with what's left of the Chaos fleet, then link up with them and help in the destruction of the unknowns." Constantine ordered.

"Sir! We have more contacts appearing near the remains of the Ork fleet! They're Ork reinforcements!" the sensor officer shouted, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"We are surrounded, but we WILL not retreat! In the name of the Emperor, fight to the last! We will not go down without a fight! Open fire, all batteries!" Constantine declared over the comm.

"There is no need for that, Admiral," a deep voice said over the ship-to-ship comms. "The Adeptus Astartes are perfectly capable of handling this situation."

As the fleets exchanged shots with one another at point blank range, a number of Space Marine strike cruisers and hammerheadshaped Battle Barges appeared from out of the blackness of space. Each ship bore the colours and insignias of the Astartes Chapter it belonged to. As soon as they reached optimal firing range, every ship fired a volley, concentrated at the traitor vessels of Chaos.

In moments, what was left of the Chaos armada was either destroyed or badly damaged, as almost all of the escorting frigates and destroyers burst into miniature, silent supernovas. The surviving enemy ships engaged their engine drives, and fled to the relative safety of the massed Ork armada, which had reorganized itself and was hitting hard against the Imperial attackers.

On the bridge of the Emperor Incarnatus, Captian Sicarus, commander of the assembled Astartes fleet, sat on his command throne, observing the battle at hand. As he gazed out of the bridge's window, the sight of two exploding Lunarclass cruisers caught his eye. The Imperial starships had been struck by Ork ramships, who had plowed straight into their hulls with the prows of their vessels.

"Communications, order all of the Imperial Navy vessels to concentrate on the Orks," Sicarus ordered, "We will deal with these traitors ourselves!"

The Imperial fleet began to form up. When the ships received the orders, they started their slow but determined push forward. Ork ships exploded left and right, some cracking open like eggs, while others had their crude engines detonate, engulfing the vessels, as well as damaging any nearby. But even with these losses, the trickle of Ork reinforcements grew to become waves, and eventually, constant warp rifts opened in space and allowed more and more of the crude Ork vessels to pass into the material world.

While the bleak battle in space was being fought, the battle on the ground had reached its peak. Hundreds of both scavenged Ork and corrupted Chaos vehicles pounded their Imperial counterparts. While Imperial fighters engaged with Ork bombers, who couldn't distinguish between friend or foe, when it came down to bombing ground targets.

A Chaos Land Raider tried in vain to destroy a huge Baneblade, but only succeeded in attracting its attention upon itself. The whole tank turned on the spot, bringing its heavy weapons to bear. The Land Raider continued to pound the superheavy tank, only to be destroyed when the Baneblade opened fire with its complete arsenal, leaving a large crater where the corrupted vehicle once had been.

"Sir! The Chaos and Ork forces are fleeing into the city!" one of the Guard officers yelled excitedly from the command tent.

A cheer rose up from everyone in the tent, but General Alexander knew better than to be excited now. "I agree with you, General, this is the time we should be cautious," said the Chief Librarian standing behind him. The general looked up at the towering Space Marine, not even bothering to wonder how he was able to know what he was thinking. After a moment, he followed Tigirius's gaze. The Imperial forces were pushing forward, routing any Orks or Chaos Space Marines unlucky enough to be in their way.

Revan and Thalion bolted for cover in the next building, clutching their bolters tightly. After an hour or so of wandering through the empty reaches of the lower city, they had managed to find a way to ground level. The distant sounds of battle could still be heard, but their journey was hardly at an end.

Revan took a quick look at the dataslate that had been given to him by BrotherSergeant Octavius, while Thalion surveyed their surroundings. "Revan!" he hissed urgently, beckoning to his battle brother with his free hand. Revan quickly tucked the objective data and quietly made his way to Thalion, who had his back to the wall at the right of a large broken window.

"Take a look." he insisted, indicating to the outside. Revan hugged the wall opposite and leaned out so that just his head went out of cover. As he adjusted the magnification on his helmet display, the sight of a mob of Orks greeted him.

"They're falling back," he observed.

"Yes, but take a look at who is with them." replied Thalion, gesturing through the window.

Revan took another glance out the window and immediately saw dozens of red-armored Space Marines running alongside the greenskin horde. "By the Emperor! Traitors!" he hissed, turning to face Thalion, who nodded solemnly.

Revan began to rise to his feet, but Thalion held him down with one hand. "What are you doing, brother?" Revan looked questioningly at Thalion, "It is our duty to purge the traitor."

Thalion's face betrayed no emotion. "We have to bide our time, Revan. Who knows how many of them there could be hiding in the shadows." he pointed out.

"We are always outnumbered, and yet we always prevail against all odds. How are a dozen traitors any different?" Revan asked, looking into the eyes of his battle brother.

Thalion turned to look outside the shattered window, "I know, but the Codex Astartes states that in this kind of situation we must be cautious as to not give away our position, until we have all the relevant information in order to strike."

Revan finally calmed down, "So what's the plan?" he asked, looking to his close friend for counsel.

"First, we must finish our mission. Then we can begin to direct our attention on the traitors," Thalion said. They both shuffled their way to the doorway, risking a quick glance around the corner Revan, half crouched, half ran to the next building across the street. Revan looked around the dank place, hearing the sound of his battle brother coming to his side. "Let's see if we can find a way to get up to that higher level." Thalion suggested.

"Yes," Revan agreed as they both wandered into the shadows.

"Warlock Seath, I am giving you command of our fleet. I trust you will do what is right when the time comes. Under no circumstances must the Imperial fleet be destroyed, we need them intact to continue fighting the Orks and Chaos fleets." Farseer Kaleeth said to her most trusted Warlock. "Meanwhile we will descend to the planets surface, to find the one who will be able to carry the sword. We must ensure that he receives it, for aiding the Imperials is also our objective. Should the Orks and Chaos succeed in defeating the forces of the Imperium of Man, the next Ork Wagh! may finish off the Ultramarines chapter. With them gone, the Tyranids and Orks will roam free in this Segmentum, and eventually they will come for us."

Beckoning to her Seer council, she briskly walked from the bridge towards the hangar bay. Warlock Seath took her position on the command throne, pondering what the Farseer had said.

Chief Librarian Tigirius had seen this kind of trickery from the enemy in the past, most notably from the Eldar and Tau. If they were losing an open battle, they would retreat into some heavily fortified city, or into the dense growth of the jungles, daring the Imperial forces to come after them. When they did, they faced attacks from every direction, slowly but steadily being separated by the enemy and destroyed. Usually, if this plan was used by the aliens, it would take years if not decades for Imperial troops to finally clear the cities and jungles of the alien filth.

He, however, had never seen Chaos, or, for that matter, Orks falling back into the cities. The traitors were either too proud to fall back, or too stupid to see that they were losing. To see Orks falling back, well, it was like seeing all of the Emperor's enemies dying on the spot. Chaos must have presented a stunning proposal for the Orks to be doing what they're doing.

"You must be cautious, general. The enemy is most likely setting a trap for us. Our tank divisions will be forced to split up in order to get into the city. Furthermore, our troops will be too spread out to be of very much use against them, we must not be hasty when we advance. We must first clear one area at a time, not all at once. If we do, we will save countless men and vehicles." Tigirius counseled General Alexander.

"I never imagined that you Space Marines would back away from a challenge," remarked the general, a smile spreading across his face.

"I never said that, general. Anyway I did not become Chief Librarian because I blindly accepted every challenge the enemy threw at me." Tigirius turned his back to Alexander. "I chose this decision because it is written in the Codex Astartes, and I will follow the teachings in its holy pages until the end."

"I meant no offence, Chief Librarian," the general said quickly, turning to face the senior Space Marine Librarian.

"Also I did not reach the position of Chief Librarian without knowing when someone is being humorous." the aged librarian smiled, "Now let us end this conflict once and for all."

**Hey guys, sorry for the long wait. Changed the name of the story. Edited thanks to LoneHunter. Please R&R. **


	7. The powers of the Warp

_**Chapter Seven:**_

_**The Power of the Warp**_

Edited by TheLoneHunter

Corinath, inner city

Gazing across the ruined city outside, Lord Ferrus stood motionless in a ruined Imperial bunker that temporarily served as his headquarters. Slowly and cautiously, the sorcerer Saren approached from behind, his mind racing as he attempted to piece together an acceptable means of explaining their army's defeat by the Imperials.

"Lord Apostle," Saren addressed him solemnly, "we have received word from the field commanders. The bulk of our forces have fallen back inside the city. It is…regrettable that the Imperials managed to…"

"What of our Ork allies?" Ferrus broke in; his back turned toward his sorcerer.

"The Orks have...reluctantly agreed to fall back. But I do not think that we will be able to hold their battle lust at bay for long." Saren cautioned his Lord. "If we are not careful, they shall undoubtedly revolt against us, and our plans will have been for…"

"Do not speak to me as though I was a fool, Saren," Ferrus retorted as he turned to face the sorcerer, his eyes glinting with annoyance. "I am well aware of the Orks' desire for conflict. We shall deal with them in time. First of all, the city has been overrun with those…Imperial bastards. Send the hunter squads a psyker each, and inform them that they are to search the city and initiate Phase Two."

"Yes, my lord." Saren bowed and retreated quickly. He was halfway out of the bunker when the Apostle's chilling voice washed over him once again.

"Kill them all. I want to see the streets flowing red with their blood before the day has passed."

Corinath, near upper levels

"By the Emperor, Brother! I think I have found a way in." Thalion called o his friend. Hurrying forward, Revan made a final sweep of the street with his bolter, checking for signs of either heretic or Ork. The pair had encountered dozens of enemy patrols on their way upward out of the lower city, and even though they had managed to stay hidden from them, all of their encounters had been close calls on their part.

Revan turned around to see a large stairway leading up into the higher reaches of the hive city. "Let us move now, brother. Stay alert and keep quiet. The city's defense grid must be heavily guarded; we need not risk our lives by revealing our position just yet." he explained, motioning for Thalion to proceed forward.

"Agreed," the other Space Marine replied. "Caution is the best option here."

The stairway seemed to go on forever, but when the two battle brothers finally managed to get to the top they were greeted by the sight of a large group of Chaos Marines, armed to the teeth and talking among themselves in low voices. Revan and Thalion froze in their places, but it seemed that the traitors were too preoccupied with their conversation to notice the pair of Astartes.

"Revan! Cover, now!" Thalion hissed to his brother, Revan only nodded in return as they both hid themselves behind some artillery shell cases, keeping as quiet as possible, lest the Marines sensed their presence.

"This is madness!" the metallic voice of a Chaos Marine resounded across the chamber. "First we ally ourselves with the xenos scum, and then we retreat from our foes? Sometimes I wonder if the Apostle is even devoted to the Dark Gods."

"Are you suggesting a rebellion?" another traitor Marine asked. "The only madness here is within your own mind! The last ones to make an attempt on Lord Ferrus's life were flayed alive before they had stepped within ten meters of him. Is that the fate that you seek?"

"Of course not! But I am beginning to believe our Lord's faltering leadership abilities may seriously hinder our progress to claim this planet," the other responded.

The sound of clanking footsteps echoed as another Chaos Marine strode up to the group, bearing a metal pole attached to his power pack, which sported the heads of three Space Marines from various chapters. The new arrival held an ancient chainsword in one hand and a rusting plasma pistol in the other.

"You think you may doubt the Dark Apostle?" the Aspiring Champion asked, a fanatical gleam entering his eyes, "Ferrus has learned from the teachings of our Lord and Primarch Lorgar. He was chosen by the Dark Gods themselves, not only for his faith in them, but because he also possesses the intelligence needed to lead a host of this size. He has fought in countless battles, including the Dread Lord's Thirteenth Black Crusade. He has faced all the myriad horrors that infest both this pitiful reality and that of the Warp, and you find it in yourself to doubt him?"

"Then why his order to fall back?" the first corrupted space marine asked, idly playing with his bolter. "It is forbidden by the gods to show cowardice in the face of the enemy."

"Because, you ignorant fool, Lord Ferrus has a plan," the new arrival retorted.

"And what plan would that be?" another traitor Marine asked curiously, restraining his comrade from drawing his weapon at the insult.

"As you are aware, you pitiful lot, we cannot face the Imperial sheep on open ground. There are simply too many of them, but once they breach the city walls, they shall play by our rules," the twisted Aspiring Champion explained in a growling voice. "They will be gloating, they will already be smelling victory, that is when we shall strike. From a hundred different directions, our daemonic allies will come, unleashing their fury upon the Imperials. We only need to wipe out the survivors when their bloodlust has subsided. We shall make their nightmares a reality."

The Chaos Marines looked at one another, whispering in anticipation.

"Well there's nothing left to do except to wait until the False Emperor's servants come after us." another of the corrupted warriors remarked. This time, Thalion began to stand when Revan held him back, shaking his head in disagreement.

"We must reach the top levels to establish a voxlink," he explained.

"The commander must know of this. We have to inform them of a trap."

"Let us go, then," Thalion replied. Suddenly, he felt the teeth of a chainsword pressing against his neck, at the single vital point where armor parted from helmet.

"It seems," a cold, metallic voice rasped, "that the Imperials arrived quicker than expected."

Outer city

Brother Ralun of the Raven Guard walked with his battle brother through what seemed to be a deserted chapel, their eyes sweeping the room for signs of an ambush.

As they neared the statue of the Emperor, at the back of the chapel, the sound of footsteps broke the air. Raising his fist in the air, he signaled a halt, bringing his bolter to eye level as the Marine behind him spun to cover the rear.

"Miserable scum! This is the day you shall see the glory of Chaos!" an unearthly voice whispered in his head, Ralun swung around...only to have his soul ripped from his body an instant later.

Near upper levels

"That one is mine, Dargos," the Marine who sported no helmet snarled, licking his lips in anticipation as he leered at Thalion.

"Very well, Venil, but do not underestimate them," the one called Dargos cautioned, holding his bolter at the ready. "Kill him now." He aimed down the weapon's sight, drawing a bead on Revan's head.

Before either of the traitors or the young Astartes could react, Thalion had lunged forward, embedding his power sword into Dargos's chest with enough force that the blade erupted from his back with a snapping noise. The Chaos Marine keeled over in a limp heap, dark blood spilling to the ground.

The other chaos marine, Venil, was quicker than his companion, raising his blade and parrying Revan's hurried swipe before it could decapitate him. Sparks flew as the two chainswords met each other again and again, clashing together and numbing the arms of both combatants. Suddenly, the traitor lashed out with his armored gauntlet, striking Revan on the helmet and dazing the Astartes. The Chaos Marine pushed him away with one hand, disarming Thalion with a savage followup blow from his blade that knocked the power sword right out of his grip. The weapon spun away, its tip carving a scorched line into the floor.

Laughing madly, Verin brought the chainsword's roaring teeth down on Thalion's arm, rending through the ceramite gauntlet and mutilating the flesh beneath it. The Space Marine roared in pain, struggling to pull his ruined arm away as the Chaos Marine raised his bolt pistol and fired off three shots, directly into his chest plate. While the reinforced armor could deflect lasrounds, flamer bursts, and even some of the advanced weaponry of the Eldar and Tau races, three pointblank bolt pistol shots were a completely different matter, let alone a single one. The explosions ripped apart Thalion's armor like paper, shredding part of his chest and propelling several pieces of shrapnel into his body.

The Astartes toppled to the ground, his mind blacking out as waves of agony engulfed him, overpowering even the heavy dosage of painkillers running through his bloodstream.

At seeing his battle brother and close friend near death, Revan let out a roar of pure rage, charging at the traitor and tackling him to the floor. Before the furious Space Marine could land any blows, the traitor held out his gauntlets and shouted an arcane phrase, transferring the energy of the Warp into his fingertips. Revan was sent flying backwards, smashing into the wall hard enough to loosen several of the bricks from their positions.

"I was so enjoying this," Venil sneered as he stood over his broken opponent. "You didn't put up much of a fight, but then again, neither did your friend."

In that moment something changed, and Revan felt his wounds instantly clot and heal. His tiredness disappeared, instead being replaced by a deep hatred as Venil raised his chainsword, ready to finish the Marine off for good.

The Chaos Marine swung down, only to see the chainsword stop not two centimeters from his victim's face. He looked at his weapon; the blade should have been traveling through the Astartes' head, but it had halted its progress, as if time had stopped. Revan rose to his feet, his eyes burning behind the twin visor lenses in his helmet.

_Impossible_, Venil thought to himself, just before his mind was ripped to shreds by Revan's devastating psychic attack. His corpse fell to the ground with a crash, the traitor's face scorched beyond recognition.

Moments later, half a dozen more traitor Marines rounded the corner, bolters in hands, drawn by the sounds of battle. Raising their weapons, they unleashed a volley of deadly rounds toward the single Astartes…only to find the bolt rounds stopping in midflight, parting harmlessly around Revan.

The Space Marine raised his hands towards them with a roar, unleashing a wave of psychic energy that decimated the Chaos warriors where they stood, turning flesh, bone, and even ceramite into ashes.

Imperial command bunker, outside of the hive

Tigirius stood, hunched, over a holodisplay of the city, listening to the Lord General as he briefed a few dozen high ranked military personnel on the tactics which would be used in order to take the hive city, as cleanly and as efficiently as possible.

It was in that moment, when the Chief Librarian let his immortal essence slip free from its shell, that he sensed the large psychic disturbance, emanating directly from the capital city.

What in His name… The aged Librarian thought to himself, as he walked out of the command bunker, the entrance of which was flanked by two Ultramarine honor guards. He turned, gazing at the city as the sun set behind the towering spires of the hive.

_What happened?_

Space

On board one of the sleek, Nightshade class Destroyers, Farseer Kaleeth felt the disturbance almost exactly when it happened. Her eyes set; she strode to the tall Eldar pilot who was in charge of both the navigations and communications of the ship.

"Yes, Farseer?" the pilot asked as she approached.

"Hasten to the planet's surface and land just south of the large forests. We will make our way on foot from there. Relay the message to the other vessels. We must reach the rendezvous point faster than we planned for. If we don't, all of our plans will fall apart."

Inner city

Inside the bunker, Lord Ferrus felt the psychic shriek rippling across the city, his Warpat-tuned mind picking up the unusually strong signals. Saren sensed it just before it hit, wincing as the energy wave struck their position with enough power to send lances of pain through his mind.

Ferrus turned to the sorcerer, "I thought I told you to dispose of the infiltrators _quietly_," he growled a feral sneer forming on his face.

The sorcerer twitched nervously under his gaze. "I had given the soldiers your instructions, Lord...I told them to be covert in their elimination of the targets."

"Then since when did 'covert' mean a massive disturbance in the Warp?" Ferrus roared at Saren. "This could cost us everything, you fool!" He glared one last time at the sorcerer and then stormed down the stairs, his cape flickering at the mercy of the wind, flanked by four of the Word Bearer elite honor guard, and leaving Saren to stand alone on the balcony, pondering about what had happened in the city below.

Near upper levels

When the last of the Chaos Marines' ashes had settled to the ground, Revan clumsily crawled his way to his wounded friend. _NO! I will not let you die!_ His anger subsiding, he placed his armored hands on Thalion's deepest injury and concentrated as hard as his aching mind would allow him, channeling all the power he had left into his fallen battle brother. He felt that the healing had been nearly completed, before he too blacked out from exhaustion.

Space

The battle in space was beginning to turn grim. In the past half hour, hundreds of Ork ships had been dropping out of the Warp, steadily turning the odds in their favor. The Imperials were forced to fall back and regroup three times now, taking multiple casualties every time, while the Orks just kept coming, living up to their nickname of the Green Tide. The tactics that they displayed were unusual; very different from their normal, brutish, headlong charges at the Imperial lines.

Undoubtedly this is the Great Enemy's doing. Admiral Constantine thought to himself as he watched the rabble Ork fleet strike again. The Imperials had been forced back to the asteroid field that separated the system into the inner and outer rim planets.

The field itself was massive, stretching for millions of miles. Most of the asteroids were small in comparison to the giant space ships that passed through. But occasionally there would be an asteroid the size of a small moon, which took the combined firepower of two if not three Emperorclass battleships to destroy.

Now the Imperial fleet would most likely be forced to flee through it.

"Order all surviving Marsclass battle cruisers to target the forward elements of the Ork fleet. Have Lunar cruisers _Archimedes_, _Manos_, _Hallowed Throne_ and _Death Bringer_ to form up on the Mars battle cruisers." the admiral barked at his communications officer. "Launch all fighters and bomber squadrons and have them stick close to their respective carrier ships."

"Aye, sir!" the comm responded.

"Sir! Our long range scanners are showing additional Ork fleet elements exiting the Warp, ten thousand klicks to port," a sensor officer reported.

"Numbers and class?" Constantine asked instinctively.

"Just over forty-two vessels, mostly comprising of ravager attack ships, also reading a number of brute battering ships," the man replied.

"No capital ships?"

"No, sir. None on our scopes."

_That's odd. They're probably trying to tie us down with this small force before the bulk of the fleet hits us._ A grim look spread across the aged admiral's face.

"What's the distance of the main force?"

"Seventy-five thousand klicks and closing," the ensign responded.

Just as I suspected, the admiral thought to himself, closing his eyes and letting a smile blossom on his scarred face. _This could be the end. We might all die this day. Well...it has been long overdue._

"Sir we are being hailed by the Emperor Incarnatus. It's Captain Sicarius, sir," the comm said.

"Put him through," ordered the admiral, straightening his uniform as he stood to attention before the large view screen. After the channel had been established, the screen turned from static to the face of one of the Imperium's greatest heroes.

"Admiral, I strongly request that you pull your fleet back towards the inner planets. We will cover your retreat through the asteroid field," the Ultramarines captain offered.

Admiral Constantine chuckled. "I'm sorry, but I will stand against the tide for as long as I live. Never a step backwards. If the Adeptus Astartes are brave enough to stand their ground, then the Imperial Navy will too. We stand together, or not at all," he finished.

It was the Space Marine's turn to laugh. "You show great courage, Admiral, and I respect that. If that is your decision, then so be it." The screen flickered and the connection was terminated.

"Now...let them come."


	8. Behind Enemy Lines

**Hero's Trial**

**Chapter 8:**

**Behind Enemy Lines**

Guest Editor: TheLoneHunter

_The scorching sun hung high in the light blue sky, casting its rays upon a little boy on the ground below. Sweat droplets ran down the child's forehead as he turned away and placed his hand on the top of a rusty gate that barred the path leading to his home._

_The boy watched as the front door opened and his mother, her loving eyes glistening in the morning sunlight, and his father, dressed in his dirty metalwork uniform, walked out onto the wooden veranda. As they emerged from the shadows inside the house, he could see they both looked happy, with smiles on their faces. The gate opened with a loud creak as he pushed it back and eagerly broke into a run._

_The wind howled in his ears as he dashed toward his family, yet he still kept his eyes on his parents the whole time. He was nearly halfway up the path before he realised that they had stopped looking at him. Their expressions had suddenly changed, from those of happiness and joy, to utter shock and horror._

_His run slowed into a jog as he neared the front door and his parents. Upon seeing that their boy was slowing down, his father released his mother and started to run towards him, silently urging his son to run faster._

_A bright flash of orange fire, a blinding white light, and the air exploded in a rippling curtain of flames. Screams of dying men and women rang through the terrified boy's ears as he whirled around, yelling for his parents to save him…_

_But they, too, were aflame, their charred skin peeling from their bones as the veranda began to crumble around them, belching a fountain of sparks and black smoke across the pathway like the breath of some nightmarish Warp daemon. When he dared to risk opening his eyes, nothing remained of his mother and father but two clouds of white ash, blown away by the shrieking wind as something massive and metallic crashed through the roof of the house, splintering the woodwork with a single blow from its mighty steel talons…_

_NO!_

Revan woke from his nightmare, gasping and covered in sweat. Still trapped in his cumbersome Astartes armour, a single question pounded through his head as he fought to keep himself from blacking out again…

_Where am I?_

Space: Corinth System__

The Imperial fleet hung in the darkness of space, overshadowed by the millions of bulky rocks that formed the great Corinth field. Once in a while, a small flash of light from one of the cruisers would streak across the void, clearing a path for the larger vessels through the dangerous asteroid belt. The armada had been ordered to wait; their prey would come to them in time.

The first wave of the rag-tag Ork fleet, after hours of traversing the deadly field, had just crossed within range of the gathered Imperial Navy and Astartes starships. Onboard every Imperial vessel, klaxons blared loudly, a fitting prelude to the conflict about to unfold before them.

Aboard the starship_ Fury_: Command bridge

The bridge was bustling with activity, from the frantic footsteps of couriers running from station to station, to the loud buzzing of servitors and crewmen as they set about their various tasks to keep the massive battleship on its course.

"Sir, the first Ork vessels are within bombard range!" one of the stocky ensigns yelled, his voice barely carrying over the commotion that was taking place all along the bridge.

Admiral Constantine nodded, acknowledging this new development. According to the data streaming in from the consoles, the first wave of enemy cruisers was equal in size to what remained of the Imperial fleet. But unfortunately for him, that was not the real problem. The Orks' second wave was several times larger in numbers than the first, outnumbering them nearly four to one. It was obvious that the advance party was there to tie them down while the lumbering armada drew close enough to envelop the Imperials in a mass of Ork ships. While that tactic would have been a viable one on the ground, it was useless in space. All the aliens would accomplish would be to turn themselves into cannon fodder for the Imperial fleet.

Constantine stole a quick glance at the monitor beside him. Glowing runes and symbols raced along the side, outlining the holographic representation of the Corinth star system, while a mass of little green blips indicated the Imperial Navy with their Astartes counterparts. A second mass of red radar signatures revealed the position of the advancing enemy fleet. While the Imperial formations were well organized and strategically placed, the Orks were literally everywhere, numbering in the hundreds of vessels, from small frigates to giant battleships.

"Communications, set up a link to the Mars battlecruiser formations!" the admiral ordered, gesturing at a small line of green dots that flanked both sides of the allied fleet. "Once the cruisers fire their second volley, target any remaining Ork vessels with torpedoes. Bay control, I want all fighters and bombers launched within five minutes!"

The aged Admiral felt pride swell in him as he watched his crew work tirelessly, even in the face of imminent destruction. It was because of men and women like them that the Imperium was the dominant force in the galaxy. These people were the ones who worked to decide the fate of the battles he faced, and he was honoured to be the one who would lead them to victory.

Constantine stood from his ornate command throne and walked up to the communications tech-priest, Savios. "Patch me through to the rest of the fleet."

Savios did as he was instructed, tapping a few runes and muttering a blessing before he turned and nodded to the Admiral. _"Go ahead, sir."_

"Hear me, servants of the Imperium!" Constantine barked, his voice transmitted across hundreds of speakers throughout the fleet. "On this day, we face an enemy as relentless as time itself, an enemy that believes it has us outnumbered and outmatched!" He paused to let the words sink in. "But what they fail to realise is that we are guided by the Emperor himself! We are the proud defenders of humanity! We must not fail…no, we _will_ not fail! In the name of the God-Emperor, we shall send these foul creatures back to the depths from whence they came!"

On board every vessel, a chorus of cheers echoed through the metal corridors and bays of the battleship, loud enough that if the Orks had been able to hear the noise across the gulf of space, chills of apprehension would have immediately shot down their spines.

Corinath: Imperial Guard staging point Alpha

Trooper Del sat on the old battered Chimera, stripping down his standard issue Mark-III lasrifle and examining each part individually. As with all the troopers of the Imperial Guard, regular equipment checks were a standard requirement for him.

Del was a well-muscled man with messy brown hair, typical of a Guardsman hailing from a heavy industrial planet. He wore the signature desert-yellow camo flak jacket of the 176th Descarian regiment, with a decorated shoulder insignia to match. Ever since he had left his homeworld, the jacket was the only thing to remind him of his birthplace.

Mere moments ago, Commissar Reg Dalon had announced that the regiment would move out in six hours' time. Most of the men were eager to finally get in the fight, having been waiting for what seemed like weeks while reports from the frontline flooded into the vox-nets. But Del knew better; this wasn't just some skirmish with a rabble of unorganised rebels and heretics. They were fighting not only greenskins, but also the forces of Chaos. In the very best of situations, this was going to be a slaughter.

But even so, there was no escaping the upcoming battle, and anyway, most soldiers preferred to go into the fight with hope rather than despair. Seeing this, the Lord General and Commissariat had immediately sent hundreds of priests to accompany the Imperial forces in a massive morale-raising campaign. Entire regiments were broken up into dozens of groups, each one joined by a servant of the Ecclesiarchy.

Del's mob of Guardsmen was fairly standard, consisting of five squads with about fifteen men and a sergeant in each one. The priest had made a moving speech about their holy work and had made sure to clearly warn each soldier about the risks of falling to the blasphemous forces of Chaos, and the terrible price of failure that traitors would pay.

Commissar Dalon stood several meters away, his back turned to Del. He was a tall and imposing man, bearing an ornate officer's cap and a black-furred coat across his broad shoulders. He always kept his ceremonial power sword at his side, protected by a leather sheath, while his bolt pistol hung from a holster on his left leg. The regiment's commander, Colonel Var, accompanied him, standing at his side and issuing orders through his personal voxcaster unit.

The colonel wasn't as tall as the commissar, but was well built, sporting a large scar across his right cheekbone in a diagonal line down to his chin. Unlike many of the other seasoned regimental officers, Var didn't have too many cybernetic implants, with the exception of the elbow of his right arm, which was now a bundle of wires and hydraulic pumps. The colonel was a gifted leader, having lead the 176th Descarian regiment through hell and back more than a dozen times. The men trusted him with their lives, and in the end, that was all that mattered.

After a few moments, Dalon nodded and moved off through the crowd of soldiers, apparently responding to some new incident that had arisen. The colonel, however, signalled for all squad sergeants to follow him.

"What's happening, Del?" Another trooper, a man named Selvon, grabbed his shoulder and shook him lightly. "Hey, you listening? Something big's going down on the front, and from the looks of it, Dolohov's mustering the squad for deployment."

Del turned and looked at his fellow trooper. Selvon had lost his left leg in a duel with a Ork Nob, and it had to be replaced with bionics. Now, every time he walked around, the Guardsmen could hear the distinctive buzz of his artificial leg.

"What do you mean?" asked Del. "I thought we weren't scheduled to move out until later today."

"Didn't you hear me? Something just happened inside the hive. The psykers have been acting all strange lately. I don't know what's going on, but what I do know is that we're moving out, and…"

He was interrupted in mid-sentence when Sergeant Dolohov walked up to them with half the squad in tow, a chainsword slung over his shoulder.

"Ok you two, clean out your ears and listen up. The High Command, in all their wisdom, have decided that now is the best time to strike the city. Get your kits ready; inspection in three hours. All troopers, dismissed!"

**Corinath Upper Levels**

Revan took his time to regain his footing, gripping onto the nearby table for support. He felt like he had been genuinely asleep, admitting that it had been a long time since he had received a good night's rest. As an Astartes, he was subjected to endless drills and prayers on a normal basis, and there was little time to doze off when a battle raging on around him.

Once he'd steadied himself, Revan carefully examined his surroundings. The room was small and cramped, with a table shoved roughly against the far wall that had been stacked with mounds of what looked like many different types of cutting tools. The Space Marine gently picked up one of these devices, taking care not to crush it in his ceramite gauntlet. The tool looked like it had just been manufactured minutes ago, bearing not a single scratch or rust stain on its silver blade.

Another glance around the room revealed that the walls bore several racks on which more newly made saws and cutters lay. _This must be a storage shed for metalworkers,_ Revan thought to himself. It had most likely been long abandoned when the Ork Waaagh! had struck Corinath.

He immediately spotted the familiar forms of his bolter and helmet, the only two pieces of wargear left from his original armour, leaning on the far wall. The bolter, hallowed weapon of the Adeptus Astartes, wasn't just an ordinary gun; in the hands of a Space Marine, it was a tool of divine wrath, a symbol of humanity's power and an extension of the God Emperor's will.

Revan let the small tool fall from his fingers as he picked up the fallen bolter. At first glance the gun wasn't perfect, it was chipped in many places, covered with dents and scratches that gave away the weapon's many encounters in close combat. There was no doubt that the weapon had seen centuries of duty in the hands of various other Marines.

Shouldering his boltgun, Revan noticed that the scope wasn't aligned properly. Battle damage must have shifted it out of place while he had been sleeping. Lowering his weapon, he carefully began to tinker and adjust his targeter, muttering a hymn to the machine spirit of the weapon while doing so.

He checked the sights once more after he finished with the needed adjustments. Revan scanned the room with his bolter several times, clicking the trigger twice to make sure that the inner machinery was working properly. Satisfied, he slid a fresh clip into the breech of his bolter and carefully placed it back onto the table, exchanging it for his helmet.

He took his time to examine the piece of ceramite thoroughly, juggling the helmet between his hands. He remembered the first time he had been allowed to wear the very same helmet, some two decades earlier. But as the years went by, his original set of power armour gradually dwindled until it was reduced to only two pieces; his right wrist guard and the helmet.

The rest of the armour had suffered severe damage during the Siege of Pylogras, a disastrous campaign for the Imperial forces deployed there. It was the first time Revan had ever fought in a tactical squad, and the first time he had fought against the treacherous forces of Chaos, namely the Alpha Legion. It was in the shadowy depths of the underhive that Revan and his battle-brothers had stumbled upon an enclave of Chaos cultists.

The young Astartes nearly met his end in the bloodbath that followed after the cultists had summoned hundreds of daemons to battle the handful of Ultramarines who were slaughtering them by the dozens. The army of Warp spawn soon flooded the underhive, even as the Space Marines cut down daemon after daemon with bolter fire and blows from their chainswords. But even the seasoned warriors of the Adeptus Astartes were not enough to stem the tide, and within moments the battle had transformed into a chaotic melee of spraying blood and flashing metal.

The Emperor's finest were hard-pressed to push back the horrific monstrosities that the Warp spat forth at them. Some fell, slain by crude warp blades or by the razor sharp claws of the enemy. Still more Marines were torn limb from limb by the larger creatures, their reinforced ceramite armour useless against the crushing grip of the ravenous daemons.

In the end, only Revan, Sergeant Octavius, Brothers Thalion, Arterus, Meron and Cobal were left standing. But the worst was yet to come, and with much of the daemon horde decimated in the battle, the cultists unveiled a final surprise for the Imperials.

A giant daemon of Khorne answered their wretched calls for aid. The monster chose to possess the body of a heretic psyker, using his body as a medium for its unearthly being. The Space Marines could only look on helplessly as the daemon transformed the flesh of the psyker to suit its needs.

When the mutations were complete, a fully formed Bloodthirster stood roaring its fury at them, determined to spill the blood of all in the name of the Blood God, no matter whether they served the Emperor or the gods of Chaos. Any cultists who foolishly strayed too close to their daemon ally were brutally ripped to shreds in the monster's fit of inhuman rage.

The Astartes response was swift and devastating. Wave after wave of bolter shells rained down on the daemon, peppering its leathery hide with small explosions. Unfortunately, the attack did little more than anger the giant beast further.

Brother Cobal was the first to feel the wrath of the greater daemon, carved in half along his waist by the sharp blade of the Bloodthirster's axe. However his sacrifice was not in vain, for with his last breath, he had managed to heave a melta bomb toward the right shoulder of the monster. The ensuing blast ended Brother Cobal's suffering, but also took the daemon's right arm and a part of its ribcage along with it.

The remaining Space Marines regrouped and prepared to exploit the weakness given to them by Cobal. But to the dismay of the four Astartes, the Bloodthirster recovered far quicker than expected.

Bellowing in pain, the daemon lashed out and caught Thalion in its talons, attempting to squeeze him to death. Brother Arterus charged forward to save his battle-brother, but the wounded beast simply tossed Thalion straight at the other Marine, knocking them unconscious and shattering both of Arterus's legs.

The daemon used its remaining hand to gather a massive amount of corrupt warp energy, with which to finish off the two downed Space Marines. Revan ran to protect his brothers from the blast, even if it cost him his life, but before it could finish conjuring the energy, Sergeant Octavius had flung himself upon the Bloodthirster, swinging his power sword and slicing its right leg to the bone.

Though the ensuing blast of Warp energy barely missed killing all three Marines at once, the explosion was still enough to fracture Revan's power armour, turning much of it to smouldering ash. Thankfully, it wasn't powerful enough to damage his body.

Sergeant Octavius proceeded to leap onto the Greater Daemon's back, raised his power sword, and plunged it deep into the daemon's skull. By the time the beast's foul corpse had hit the ground, Revan was already in the blissful embrace of unconsciousness.

Loud explosions snapped Revan back to reality. He recognised the sound as the same pattern as a standard Imperial siege bombardment, this phase was merely to soften the target before the main sledgehammer force struck.

_I should move on before I am discovered here, _Revan thought to himself, checking to make sure he was still carrying his chainsword and bolter. As he was about to leave, he suddenly realised that Thalion had somehow disappeared.

Perhaps he has located the rest of our squad. If not, then…

The young Marine pushed the thought out of his mind as he stepped out of the work shed and into the harsh streets of Corinath.

**In the forests north of Corinath**

Farseer Keleeth peered out at the distant Imperial capital, and the battles which were taking place within it. Giant plumes of black smoke rose out of the vast city, highlighted by threadlike beams of light from the heavens that tore through the buildings as if they were made of cardboard.

"Foolish humans," Warlock Pheal remarked, his voice cold with contempt. "It is a wonder that they have survived for so long on their own."

"The humans are useful in their own way," Keleeth replied. "Their stubbornness attracts the attention of our enemies, thus, our task is to exploit the weaknesses that present themselves." She turned to her ally, her voice suddenly stern in tone. "It would not go well for us if they were to be simply exterminated."

Pheal nodded in agreement. He was not one to argue with a Farseer of Keleeth's reputation.

"I trust the preparations are going as planned?" the female Eldar inquired, changing the subject.

"The Webway Assembly is nearing completion," answered the Warlock. "The Bonesingers report that they will be able to set up a gate system on this world within a few days."

"Very well," Keleeth said, turning to face the base camp. Lacking a Webway gate, the aliens had chosen to approach the world in a much more conventional way. By sending a small shuttle escorted by a squadron of Nightwing fighters to find a suitable area for the creation of the base camp, they then began the arduous process of joining the planet to the thousands of others that formed the Eldar's galaxy spanning network.

"Something is bothering you, Warlock," Keleeth observed as they walked across the landing area, shadowed by the elegant structure of the half-built gate. Pheal glanced at the Farseer for a moment.

"Are my feelings so obvious that you may read them without effort?" the Eldar asked, shrugging his shoulders as he looked out at the ongoing construction efforts.

"Well?" Keleeth asked with a touch of impatience.

"Why must we aid the Mon'keigh here?" Pheal continued, "They have shown that they are more than capable of defending themselves against the Orks, even if their actions _are_ influenced by ours. And this is hardly the first time that they have faced the taint of Chaos."

"The humans, as usual, have blundered into a major trap, orchestrated by none other than the Forces of Chaos," explained Keleeth. "If the Imperials are allowed to be destroyed, then the Ork population will quickly overflow and spill out into the neighbouring sectors. This will result in massive casualties for both humans and Eldar alike."

The Warlock followed his Farseer to a stone pedestal on which sat a rune-encrusted case. Keleeth carefully opened it, allowing Pheal to gaze upon the object inside.

"Besides," the Farseer added, "we must not forget our task of delivering this relic to its rightful owner…"

End Chapter Eight

**Finally managed to get this next chapter out, hope u guys enjoy. **

**Special thanks to TheLoneHunter for editing. **

**R&R**


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